Chapter 5 - Sugar, Smoke, and Alibis
The Duke family gathered at the mansion the next morning, and Claire understood why Roman had called them dangerous. They were not loud or obviously cruel. They were charming in the way expensive knives were polished: beautiful because they were meant to be handled carefully.
Victor Duke arrived first, smiling as if he had come to congratulate Claire on a successful catering order. He was Roman’s older half-brother, silver-haired at the temples and dressed in a navy suit. Celia, their cousin, followed with a sharp bob and sharper eyes. Their uncle Peter brought an old-fashioned courtesy that made every sentence sound like a threat.
“The baker,” Victor said. “I have heard so much.”
“Most of it probably involved cinnamon.”
His smile widened. “Roman has never allowed anyone to speak to him that way.”
“Then his life needed more interesting people.”
Celia laughed. Peter did not. Roman stood near the fireplace, arms crossed, watching everyone. Claire recognized the tension in his shoulders. This was not a family meeting. It was a trial with better furniture.
Victor lifted the bank slip. “Mara deposited money into an account connected to Daniel Bennett. That account was closed two days before her death.”
Lily stood behind Susan, listening.
Roman’s voice cut through the room. “Do not discuss Mara in front of Lily.”
“Lily is old enough to know her mother was not innocent,” Peter said.
Lily stepped out from behind Susan. “You didn’t know her.”
Peter’s expression softened for half a second, then hardened again. “I knew what she did.”
Claire saw Lily’s hands curl into fists. She moved beside the girl, not touching her without permission. Lily glanced up and nodded before taking Claire’s hand.
Victor watched the gesture. “How touching.”
Roman moved forward. “Leave.”
“The warehouse accounts are frozen,” Victor said. “Our suppliers are nervous. The police are asking questions. And someone is threatening the family with records you destroyed.”
“I destroyed Dominic’s leverage.”
“You destroyed our protection.”
Claire said, “Protection that depended on blackmail was never protection.”
The room went still.
Susan’s gaze flicked to Claire with something like pride and fear.
Victor turned toward her. “You have no idea what you are defending.”
“I am not defending anyone. I am asking why every man in this room thinks fear is a business model.”
Roman’s eyes met hers. There was warmth there, quickly concealed.
That afternoon, Claire returned to Bennett’s Oven with Ellis and Mateo outside. The front window had been boarded up, and the bakery smelled of sawdust. She began mixing dough because she needed a task that obeyed rules.
Ellis entered the kitchen. “Your father’s notebook. May I see it?”
Claire looked at him. “Why?”
“I used to work for Dominic.”
Mateo appeared behind him. “Ellis.”
“She should know.” Ellis’s face was lined and tired. “I was security at the warehouse the night Daniel disappeared. I saw a car leave. Dominic was not in it.”
“Who was?”
“Mara.”
Claire stopped kneading. “Mara helped my father?”
“I think she tried.”
The bakery alarm sounded.
Smoke poured from the storage room. Claire ran toward it, but Mateo caught her around the waist and pulled her back as a shelf collapsed. He released her immediately when she shouted his name.
Roman arrived less than two minutes later. He came through the front door with a fire extinguisher in one hand and fury in his face. The fire was contained, but several boxes of ingredients had been ruined.
Claire coughed. “The alarm company said the system was disabled from inside.”
Roman looked at Ellis.
Ellis raised both hands. “I was outside.”
Claire studied the storage room. Flour dust covered the floor. Near the back wall, beneath a fallen shelf, she found a small brass button shaped like a duke’s crest.
Victor’s coat had matching buttons.
Roman saw it in her palm. “Do not accuse him without proof.”
“I am not accusing him. I am noticing.”
“He wants you to notice.”
“Then he is doing a poor job of hiding it.”
Roman stepped closer. “You keep walking toward danger.”
“And you keep standing in front of it instead of telling me where it comes from.”
His voice dropped. “I am trying to keep you alive.”
Claire’s anger faltered. “Then trust me enough to let me help.”
For a heartbeat, neither moved. The air between them felt more dangerous than the smoke.
Roman reached toward her cheek, then stopped before touching her. “May I?”
Claire realized there was soot beneath her eye. She nodded.
His thumb brushed her skin, gentle and brief. Then his phone rang.
Roman listened, and every trace of warmth vanished.
May you like
“What happened?” Claire asked.
He looked toward the street. “Lily is gone.”
